


The Queen Mother and the Maiden

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: F/F, Humiliation, Public Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-12
Updated: 2010-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa Stark couldn't possibly be the one she has to fear but Cersei makes sure of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen Mother and the Maiden

Sansa Stark could not be the one the crone spoke about. She was an empty-headed little thing; Cersei couldn't imagine being threatened by her. She was younger, though, and in time, when her beauty was in full bloom and age had robbed Cersei of her beauty, she might be more beautiful. And when Joffrey wedded her - if he wedded her - she'd be Queen. It was enough to make Cersei hate her.

"Your Grace." Sansa curtsied in the doorway. "You summoned me."

"Come in." Cersei didn't offer her a seat. She enjoyed the discomfort the girl was not skilled enough to hide. "You'll become a woman soon."

"I...I don't know, Your Grace." She didn't sound happy; she wasn't so stupid that she didn't know womanhood meant she'd have to spread her legs for Joff.

It wouldn't be long until her first flowering. Her body was changing rapidly; she'd grown nearly a half a foot since Cersei had first seen her at Winterfell, and she'd sprouted breasts. Her clothes barely fit her anymore. It was indecent the way her developing breasts strained a bodice made for a child.

Grand Maester Pycelle, of all people, had been the one to point it out to Cersei, asking the queen if the child should not have new clothes. "She's a traitor's daughter and a rebel's sister, Your Grace, but she's betrothed to your own dear son." The old man, ever loyal to House Lannister, didn't want the girl's indecency to reflect badly on them. But as far as Cersei was concerned, the only one shamed was Sansa herself.

"Let's see," she said. "Undress."

The girl just looked at her like an idiot. "Here?" She glanced at the guardsmen at the door and the maid tending the fire, as if to remind Cersei of their presence.

"Yes, here," Cersei snapped. "I'll help you." She unlaced the back of Sansa's dress and tugged her clothes off until the girl was standing naked in front of her. Cersei circled her, surveying every inch of her.

Sansa had folded her arms to hide her breasts and crossed her legs to hide her sex. Cersei forcibly lowered her hands to her sides so she could take an unobstructed look at her chest. She couldn't resist pinching her nipples. Sansa whimpered, confused and scared. Cersei's own nipples were hard with arousal. "You don't need new things; you hardly have any breasts yet," she pronounced.

"Yes, Your Grace. May I get dressed?"

Cersei nodded and watched as the girl hastily put on her clothes. Sansa approached her mutely, needing someone to lace up the back of the gown. Cersei pretended not to understand. "You're dismissed," she said to Sansa. She ordered the maid away, telling her, "Denna, fetch me a fresh flagon of wine from the kitchen."

There was no one to help Sansa; she could not ask the guards, with their barely concealed lust. After long moments of just standing there piteously, she pulled her cloak over her unlaced gown and held it tight to shield her. Cersei watched her go with bitter satisfaction. That weak little girl would never be a threat to her.


End file.
